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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29206980">Catch Me If You Can</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dinthehottotty/pseuds/Dinthehottotty'>Dinthehottotty</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cute, Din Djarin - Freeform, F/M, Feels, Fluff, I promise, M/M, Multi, Other, Sorry no more porn yet, Young Din Djarin, gender neutral reader, riduur, this is sickeningly sweet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:47:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,417</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29206980</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dinthehottotty/pseuds/Dinthehottotty</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Din finds new meaning to old words. A short story from Din's POV about you.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Din Djarin/Gender Neutral Reader, Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Catch Me If You Can</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Translations at the bottom of the page. Now suffer emotions you poor mortal fools.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Those five stupid words got him everytime. They always stirred a childish rivalry between the two of you and he hated it. He was well and grown, those insignificant words should have no effect on him.</p><p>But they did.</p><p>From the time you were both foundlings it burned him. Not because you were faster than him, because he managed to grab you everytime, but the fact that it always worked on him. He idly wondered if that's why he was so drawn to bounty hunting. Had you trained him to chase?</p><p>Often times, when he's flying through the endless streaking that is hyperspace he thinks about you. Hyperspace is to you as visiting the armorer is to his parents. The whirring of hyperspace makes him dream of you saying that like some sick nightmare.</p><p>He remembers the first time it's said to him, a couple weeks after he was rescued. He'd seen you, both of you young enough that you hadn't sworn the creed. He remembers you watching him with excited eyes and sneaking over to him when all he wanted was to cry again over the loss of his parents.</p><p>"It's easier not to think about it," you'd told him, "and when you do, think about the good things." It had surprised him. He'd never spoken a word, he quickly discovered you were a foundling yourself, rescued only a short time prior. You'd eased him a bit, accepting his quiet nature with your chatty one. He thinks often of your cheeky smile from youth. It's hard to imagine what it looks like now, all he sees when you laugh is just the endless times as children he saw your grin. How you stayed so upbeat he didn't know.</p><p>But when he'd dried his tears you begged him to play and he had. "Catch me if you can!" Was shouted and so began his rage because you flashed a devious look over your shoulder as you ran.</p><p>You dared him to try.</p><p>Then it continued.</p><p>Catch me if you can, as you were trained to fight and he'd chase you across the training fields. In the middle of brawls, you'd call it out and he'd immediately turn to chase. It was purely instinctual. How you found him that one time on some outer rim planet, magnitizing trouble his direction, he decided you were bad luck. You'd weezed it as you both sprinted from an unidentifiable creature that was ready to tear you both limb from limb. He'd punched the back of your helmet for it when you were both in private (and you found it hilarious as he shook his knuckles free from pain).</p><p>It turned into a joke you'd say. Because he might be faster than you but he always have to push himself to keep up with you. It was competitive but effortless on your part and that brought out the childlike indignation he buried down. You pushed all the buttons in the perfect sequence to rile him up. He hated it. He dreaded it.</p><p>You'd appear in the furthest reaches and the most annoying manner, sneaking up on him to whisper it like it was the funniest thing. Swooping in to steal his bounties at the most inconvenient times. He never understood it. You'd catch them just before him and dump them at his feet like a lothcat dropping a womp rat on its owners doorstep. Smug and proud.</p><p>You'd jibe him with those five words whenever you could. Some of the most difficult, dangerous bounties that could yield a mighty reward and you'd just... hand them over like it was nothing.</p><p>It frustrated him to no end. But there was nothing in the world that felt better than sacking you to the ground, he swears. He loved to win against you, even if it felt like you let him. He always second guesses himself when it happens because you laugh! Like it's all in the fun.</p><p>You snare him everytime with that line and he knows he's lost. You were a fierce warrior and honestly he was glad you didn't bounty hunt often. If you did he wouldn't have even half the credits.</p><p>You swore the creed before he did. Earned your signet before him. Won a blaster before he did. It was endless chasing and even when you lost he could never understand just why you seemed to enjoy yourself so much. He could never tell if you were a rival or a friend but deep down he always hoped it was just an annoying friend.</p><p>He felt like it was a waste of your talents for you to transfer to the covert under medicine instead of mercenary work. To be honest, though he had seen you work, fingers flying effortlessly. They were steady, even when covered in blood.</p><p>He tried to tell himself that he was just too exhausted from the last bounty to not clean up his newest wound. A few shallow stabs that he'd acquired in the scuffle of a twi'lek that refused to give in. Din had closed it with an emergency cauterizer but it was mess and awkward, especially the one on his hip.</p><p>The excuses kept rolling in his head of what he'd tell you on why he didn't just clean it up himself before he realized he couldn't stop thinking about your modulated laugh or the lightness of your gloved touch compared to his. (He was fully aware of how hard you could hit and was always amazed by the delicacy of your gentle touches.)</p><p>It was after he left the Cantina, delivering bounties, collecting rewards, internally punching Kreef, that he finally just admitted he missed you. He missed the only person he might call his friend.</p><p>Din is aware that this will be the third time in the last two months that he's sought you out in this manner. That it's becoming a habit instead.</p><p>So he tries not to limp to badly to the convert. When he reaches the medical room he feels disappointed that your armor doesn't catch his eye at first. You'd probably been requested on a mission, somewhere important.</p><p>That is until he spots you half hidden behind a curtain, hunched over another mandalorian and focused intensely on whatever was under the bandage you were staring at.</p><p>He'd seen you do that. You were evaluating. You'd stand still as a droid, thinking about whatever wild random thoughts came out of your head. Another thing that marveled him. You were so creative, always looking for a different way to do things, just for the fun of it. It frustratingly worked in your favor but he thinks it's got more to do with stubbornness than good logistics.</p><p>He shuffles that way, and if you notice, you don't acknowledge him as he sinks awkwardly into one of the chairs. He keeps his weight off his hip.</p><p>"There is an avaliable baar'ur on the otherside, vod." You murmur without looking up. You'd noticed him, however not noticed it was him.</p><p>"I'll wait," he rumbles and your head jerks up in response. He likes it more than he cares to admit because your straightening and evaluating him instead of the man on the table who is no doubt glaring at him. Din thinks it's one of the many that float around and boast for your attention.</p><p>"Did you get stabbed again?" You demand.</p><p>"Not deep." Your laugh flutters about and then your turning back to your current patient who relaxes as your finally return your attention on him.</p><p>"If you want an excuse to see me just ask, you don't have to hurt yourself to do it. Just stop by, bring me some shig." You say and begin to pick up tools. When you remove the bandage Din sees a healing wound. You were checking up on him.</p><p>"I'll remember that." He can feel your grin through your helmet.</p><p>By the time he was settled on the table for examination, you were already hovering over him. He shifted onto his good side, rolling toward you as he jerked his tunic up. He had to unclip his belt to lower his pants enough for the wound on his hip to show.</p><p>You were forced to ignore the glorious dark trail of hair beginning to peak out from the top of them.</p><p>He very nearly sighed in relief as your hands carefully braced over either wound and prodded gently. It makes his heart race. "Maker, Din," he could hear you hiss minutely. "Do I have to board your damn trash ship in order to keep you from doing this shit to yourself? I'm giving you bacta."</p><p>"Don't need it. And my ship is not trash." He grunts, making you twist your helmet toward his.</p><p>"Or'dinii," you grunt lowly. Maybe he was a bit of a moron. "I'm taking your cauterizer away." Finally, you draw away and begin to pull out supplies to clean and dress his wound.</p><p>"So I'll just bleed out next time?"</p><p>"It'd be a mercy." Din smiles under his helmet as you begin gently cleaning his gashes. You knew by this point that he also refused the local anesthetics by now. He couldnt feel your hands the last time.</p><p>Din relaxes against the table, calmed by your presence. "Do you want to stop by for dinner tonight?" You prompt him.</p><p>"I have bounties to hunt."</p><p>"Tell you what, have dinner with me tonight and I'll help you catch your next few."</p><p>"I don't need your help."</p><p>"Sure. Sure. I mean, you're totally up to catching me right now." Din feels the spike of emotion in his chest and groans in annoyance.</p><p>"I have caught you everytime, wounded or not," he growls. "Were not children anymore." He doesn't expect you to lean down to his helmet. It startles his heart into a sprint as you rub your thumb affectionately over his hip bone. What game was this? All he can see is his helmet reflecting in yours.</p><p>"If you haven't realized that I enjoy you chasing me at this point, I may have to spell it out for you, Din." Your threat has a mocking to it that pisses him off more, but he's tense under your thumb stretching to the inside of his pelvic bone. It's taunting, teasing.</p><p>"What's the point?"</p><p>"Maybe you'll have to try again and find out."</p><p>And you rose back to work silently on his wound, letting him mull over your words and over think the tension.</p><p>Finally, he's patched up properly and sits up on the table. "What time are you done here?" He asks.</p><p>"Twenty minutes ago."</p><p>"Why didn't you say anything."</p><p>"Doesn't matter, does it?" You make quick work of cleaning up your supplies. "So dinner?" You demand. Din grins under his helmet.</p><p>"Fine." He relents, climbing to his feet.</p><p>"Good. Oh, and Din," you lean close, backing him into the edge of the stone table your hand presses into his chest plate. "Catch me if you can." Before you take off like there's blaster fire.</p><p>You let him catch you this time, right in the entrance to your quarters. He tackles you through the curtain and you roll across the floor, laughing all the way. Clearly, you're enjoying as much as you did playing tag or hide and seek as kids. Despite the bite of pain in his wounds he wrestles your arms to the ground on top of you.</p><p>"You like this?" He demands, half amused.</p><p>"Yeah, you were the best part of my life when we were growing up, it brings me back, you know?" He tenses when you casually admit that. And the silence hangs heavy, only heavy breathing and the tap of beskar chests heaving against each other.</p><p>Then he headbutts the helmet to yours. "I... I think about your smile a lot... from when we were kids." You shift slowly under him, legs framing his hips.</p><p>"It's strange isn't it? That we've known each other so long and we don't look anything like we did the last time we saw one another." Your voices lowered.</p><p>"We... we could see each other again," he finds himself suggesting. You gasp quietly underneath him.</p><p>"Like... like leaving the covert?"</p><p>"If you... if you wanted. But..." he hesitates, trying to remember how annoying you were supposed to be. "What if we got married?" He feels more nervous than he ever remembers feeling.</p><p>"Okay," you whimper, sounding as breathless as you feel.</p><p>"Okay?" He finds himself repeating. Your helmet nods frantically against his.</p><p>"Yes, okay!" And he's letting you go of your arms when you sound like your ready to sob. He kind of likes the sound of the beskar armor sliding against more beskar, but suddenly he's exhausted and all he wants is to sink into your warm embrace unhindered. Only rumbling bellies reminding the both of you to detangle.</p><p>...</p><p>His jump to hyperspace was welcomed this time. His brain swimming around you, his Riduur. His love. His best friend. He could embrace the thoughts of you in hyperspace.</p><p>Navarro darts out of view and he settles back in his seat, a pleasant sort of soreness filling his body from his eager activities you'd both participated in. He just wished he could have seen your face after the ceremony, but there wasn't enough time.</p><p>"Hey, Din," he hears you call from the doorway of the cockpit. But it sounds different, lighter. You weren't wearing your helmet. A thrill of excitement filled him for a split second. He soaked up a moment before he slowly pilots his chair about.</p><p>You weren't just not wearing your helmet, you weren't wearing anything. It stalled his brain to see the shy but mischievous smile as you casually lean against the doorframe. He knows the tightened nipples are due to the cool air of his ship and he takes in the face he's been imagining for nearly three decades.</p><p>You smile up at him, mocking him. "Catch me if you can," you murmur softly, but there's no motion to run. Din smiles behind his helmet.</p><p>There's no rage this time. Only thrill and awe at the face he's imagined a billion times and how he still couldn't have gotten it right. He reaches for his own helmet lifting it off his head to see his spouse for the first time since they were kids.</p><p>....</p><p>Baar'ur - Medic</p><p>Vod - Brother, sister, comrade</p><p>Shig - a hot, tea like beverage</p><p>Or'dinii - Moron or fool</p>
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